


You Shall Not Go To The Ball

by majesticduxk



Category: Supernatural
Genre: ABO, Alpha!Sam, Alternate Universe - Historical, Crack, Gen, Humour, Spanking, crack!fic, omega!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-27
Updated: 2014-11-27
Packaged: 2018-02-27 06:14:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2682158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/majesticduxk/pseuds/majesticduxk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam knows how to school an unruly omega!</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Shall Not Go To The Ball

**Author's Note:**

> This is to fulfil part of the spn_spanking challenge. My theme was Historical. I had a blast writing this! I love Georgette Heyer and have written a few original things in that style. it was fun to put the boys in. 
> 
> I will give a warning for Destiel although this is not a Destiel fic. It's an implied possible maybe in the future it might happen. 
> 
> this is not wincest. this is brothers. 
> 
> great thanks to my beta, [jubblesbubble](http://jubblesbubbles.tumblr.com/)!

Sam had hoped to enjoy a pleasant repast. He hadn’t graced the breakfast table with his presence in at least a week – the playing had been deep at Brooks, and Sam hadn’t been home before the sun rose. 

Last night, however, his game had been off. Sam had enjoyed a pleasant repast with Lord Novak at Wattier’s before returning at a reasonable hour. Unusually, he wasn’t even a trifle foxed!

He’d sought out his brother – if only to inquire if he needed more pin money, and to invite him to promenade tomorrow. 

Only to find Dean was not in the house. 

The staff _of course_ had no idea where he could be. So like an Alpha father of the olden, Sam had waited in the drawing room, sitting in the flickering light of the fire, until Dean returned home. Well after midnight, Sam noted darkly. 

As he sat there with only his thoughts for company, Sam could only be grateful that their father was at present rusticating. Dean would not have enjoyed the consequences, otherwise. Not that he had enjoyed Sam’s consequences. 

He’d been unwilling to listen to the excuses of a defiant Omega, one who was constantly in the basket! With no further ado Sam had tipped his brother over his lap, pulling his drawers down to his knees before delivering a very firm spanking. Only once Dean had sobbed out his apologies did Sam made mention to escort his brother to his room, and, with a kiss on the cheek, had told him to be down in time for breakfast. And Sam had a strong understanding that his headstrong brother needed a much firmer hand on the bridle. 

Which is how they found themselves in their current position. 

Despite Sam’s thinly veiled order, Dean was sulking in his room. 

But not quietly. 

Sam would still have had a firm word with his brother, if he had just been defiant. But this was _loudly_ defiant. A ruckus even. And it was not appropriate. Sam’s expression set, he knew Dean needed some schooling. 

Dean was a tempting armful, Sam knew. And he’d been dropping his handkerchief at Lord Novak for months now. But Lord Novak was very… proper. He was top of the _Ton_. And despite his background, Dean was not. Sam winced at a particularly loud crash from upstairs. He knew their mother would turn in their grave, seeing her son behave in such a hoydenish manner. He was currently banging his draws and slamming the door – 

“If that door slams one more time, Dean, not only will you miss the card night at Lord Novak’s, but you shan’t attend Almack’s on Friday.” It was perhaps, not elegant to raise one’s voice at the dining table, but Dean was the very Devil misbehaving right now.

Sam cocked his head, waiting to see if Dean could control himself. He’d just turned back to his paper when there was a massive _thump_. Sighing, Sam folded the paper and placed it – neatly - on the table. Pushing back his chair, he walked to the mirror, and straightened his cravat. 

“Jo?”

“Yes, Lord Winchester?”

“Please clear the table. My brother will not be eating this morning, and I have finished.”

The Beta maid bobbed a curtsy before heading to her task. 

A final look in the mirror and Sam was ready to deal with his brat of a brother. 

\--

Sam was such a frightful _pig_ , Dean thought resentfully, as he knocked his chair to the floor. Sam was constantly telling him how to behave, what he could and couldn’t do. He never listened to Dean! Even when Dean tried to tell him he was the talk of the town, with his calf love over Dean, despite being an Omega, was the _elder_! Sam had listened to him right up until he presented as an Alpha, and since then had been the most irritating, controlling, despicable…

Before his thoughts took him too deep, the door was wrenched open. Dean barely spared his brother a look. 

“These are my _private_ chambers, Sam. And _you_ are not invited.”

Turning his back, he strode towards his window. Only to have his brother grasp his wrist. As Sam pulled him over to the bed, Dean started to struggle. 

“Unhand me, brother! These are _my_ chambers, and I shall do as I wish!”

Sam of course ignored him, pulling him over his lap and intending to pull his pantaloons down. They may as well get Dean’s punishment out of the way. To his surprise, Dean’s struggles _increased_. Generally by this stage, Dean realised he had pushed his brother as far as he was willing to be pushed and submitted to his punishment. 

Catching one hand, Sam pulled it behind Dean’s back. Dean’s behaviour was too smoky by half, and Sam intended to get to the bottom of it – in more ways than one! At this angle the Omega had very little leverage, and realising the physical battle was lost, let leash a stream of cussing at his now rather irate brother. 

“You cad! You fiend! Unhand me!”

Sam’s brow clouded. “I have no idea from where you learned such _deplorable_ language, you hoyden! But, by all that is mighty, I will teach you how to behave as an Omega of virtuous nature!”

Finally Dean’s pantaloons were down. Leaving some rather risqué green silk bloomers in their wake. 

Sam’s mouth tightened. 

His hand smoothed over the green silk. When he spoke, his voice was deceptively mild. 

“And why would you be wearing the bloomers of a trollop?”

Dean blushed into the bed. Why did he have no self-control? From vast past experience, he knew his brother had a limited capacity for what he termed ‘childish caprices’, and although Dean firmly believed that one was entitled to… to release their frustrations as one chooses in one’s own bedchambers, Sam had, on numerous occasions, showed him the folly of his way. 

And Dean was well aware of his current folly. 

His Alpha brother had Very Strong Feelings on what was appropriate for an unmated Omega to wear. And dressing as… as an Omega of Easy Virtue was simply asking to have his behind reddened. 

Dean persisted because it Wasn’t Fair! Why Sam seemed to go through his belongings, Dean was unsure, but when he’d found the silk knee stockings with the seams up the back, Dean hadn’t been able to sit properly for two days. 

The silky frippery currently encasing his derrière was…

“Ouch! Brother!”

Dean’s focus had shifted. Sam’s mouth tightened even more. 

“I asked you about… these silk unmentionables, Dean. These are made to be seen by a… a _paramour_.” As the thought crossed his mind, Sam growled, all protective Alpha. 

“Dean! Do not tell me you have been…”

Sam’s hand has loosened in shock, and Dean quickly wriggled off his brother’s lap. As he pulled his pantaloons up with one hand, the other was held out, placating, to his brother. 

“No one has seen them! I am still pure. Sam, you would know!”

And if the last was a whine, who could blame him. Sam’s brow was still thunderous. As he watched his brothers’ hands reflexively twitch. Dean winced, knowing Sam would show his posterior no mercy. 

Sam considered his brother. It was true. Sam would know if Dean had gone and gotten himself into an indelicate situation. But how had such… wanton fripperies… entered his household?

Standing abruptly, Sam strode to Dean’s dresser. 

“Sam!”

Whirling to face his brother, Sam pointed at the bed. “Remove your pantaloons, your bloomers, and sit on the bed. Regardless of my feelings on your… under things,” and Sam blushed slightly. He should _not_ be having this conversation. “Your behaviour was monstrous inappropriate. And now I find you wearing the trappings of a harlot.” 

Sam opened the second drawer, only to have his eyes graced with a multitude of frothy lace. Squeezing the bridge of his nose, he considered. The wear was delightful, designed to attract and seduce one’s mate. And it would have cost a pretty penny. 

“These clothes are unsuitable for an Omega maiden. And my brother will not dress as a bird of paradise. Not while under my roof,” Sam finally declared. He ignored his brother’s pained “Sam!” and continued on. 

“However, I shall not have them destroyed. They will be removed and placed in your trousseau until such a time as I am lucky enough to have you taken off my hands.”

Dean’s muttered “Fiend” did _not_ go unheard.

Turning, Sam stalked towards his brother, who immediately offered his throat. Unamused, Sam hauled him to his feet. With great displeasure, he noted Dean’s petty disobedience, as the green silk nothing still enrobed him. He quickly divested Dean of his remaining covering, pulling him once over his lap. 

Even there, bare behind ready to face his brother’s discipline, Dean could not keep a civil tongue in his head. 

“You were somewhat too skilled, m’lord. Perhaps it is _you_ who have been tying their garter in public?”

Sam could have lectured. Could have informed his brother of the ways in which his behaviour was lacking. On the expectations of a member of the House of Winchester. 

Instead he chose to silently rain spanks down on his brother’s pale behind. 

Dean was stoic for the first four slaps. He was still a little tender from last night, but he was no stranger to staring at the floor from across his brother’s lap. Mouth in a grim line he jerked with the force of Sam’s slaps. The Alpha was not holding back. By eight, tears pooled at the corner of his eyes. 

By ten, Dean was crying and struggling to get away. Although his cries were distressing (no Alpha wished to cause an Omega distress!), Sam girded his loins. This was the only way to get Dean to behave – and even then he knew his brother would be back to his unbecomingly brassy self by the morrow. 

So instead of giving in to the pleas of ‘stop!’ and ‘no more!’ and ‘I’ll be good!’ Sam set to colouring every inch of that pert bottom. 

Sam had lost count and his hand was sore by the time Dean was limp and sorrowful over his lap. He pulled back, eyeing Dean’s derriere. It was a delightful shade of red – enough that sitting would be a small discomfort for a few days. That pleased Sam – better to remember the lesson. 

Having established that he was done, he removed his hand from Dean’s back. As soon as it was moved, Dean scrabbled up, into his brothers lap, nose immediately placed at the base of his brothers throat, sensing the calming scent of _Alpha_. 

Dean was a mess. He always was of course – his bottom was on fire and he felt so _distraught_ that he had disappointed his brother. 

“I’m sorry, Sammy! I’m sorry!”

Stroking his brother’s back, Sam couldn’t help but enjoy his brother’s soft warmth. Especially as it would not be for much longer. On the one hand, the sooner he was mated, the sooner someone else would be responsible for his shenanigans. On the other hand, he would miss his brother. 

“It’s alright Dean. It’s over. We’ve dealt with it.” He felt the need to sternly add, “We’ll see no more silken fripperies until you are properly mated.”

Dean wouldn’t be Dean if he didn’t have a comeback. 

“Why brother! I didn’t know your perversions leaned that way!”


End file.
